Pairings of All
by Bryn'ryo'ishtar
Summary: Sometimes sweet, funny, terrible or sad. I'm going to go into the weirdest pairings ever, things that will never happen in the books. If you don't like this sort of thing, don't read. Otherwise, you'll never look at them the same way again...
1. Serpine x Baron

**Hi there. All the characters were made by the amazing, incredible, Golden God of awesome, Derek Landy. I love him, and he deserves all the credit. So, maybe this is a bit unfair, but I think maybe this fanfic should be rated Mature –NOT Teen. Things are about to get weird.**

**This was inspired by the author of "What an Odd Pair", a fellow fanfic writer on this website, who writes similar odd pairings. If you want more, go to her, because she is an amazing writer. I'd already been thinking about writing this type of thing, but since she's already started it, I was all like, hey, why not?**

**Here it is. I know not everyone may like this. Still, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all."**

**This is the fun type of fanfic.**

**Chapter One: Bad Guys.**

Nefarian Serpine strode through the halls of Venegous Baron's giant, luxurious castle, only pausing once or twice to admire the paintings on the wall. They were different, only slightly, from the ones in his own castle. Nefarian couldn't help but be impressed by Baron's simplistic style in his castle.

Not that he could ever stand to live the same way Baron did. If there was anything between Mevolent's generals, it was a huge gap in character. Baron was a realistic, a devout follower, a clever strategist and fighter. Serpine was an elitist, a charmer, and recruiter, not a natural fighter—but had been trained to be efficient, loyal and clever. The Generals, without counting Lord Vile, respected each other.

That was the kind side of it. Behind each other's backs, Baron and Serpine indulged in humiliating each other, as long as it didn't harm The Cause. If they fought or bickered outright, Mevolent would smash their two heads together. Mevolent was gone though, recently defeated.

It was fine. I'd harmed them, yes, their allies were drawing back, yes, but Mevolent hadn't gone down without a fight. The Sanctuary was weakened. They had called in reinforcements from other countries, but those wouldn't be in Ireland until early morning tomorrow.

Serpine and Baron had one night to finally destroy the Sanctuary, in one blow. Once and for all. So Serpine didn't really have time to waste on pettiness or art, he wanted this war over with, and the Gods back where They belonged.

He stalked past Baron's men, who made care to move to the side for him. Serpine was a thing to see that night. His dark suit filled with bullet holes in the end—thanks to a damn skeleton—his clothes were rumpled, there was dirt on his cheeks and a black bruise from where Skulduggery's fist had landed just before Serpine had gotten out of there, his horse raising away, with Skulduggery hurling fire at him almost faster than he could dodge. The rest of the Dead men had been on the sides, still recovering, but still firing guns quite efficiently. He scowled and knocked on Baron's door, hard. His black hair had been swept from his face the morning before, but now came forward in an endearing way. His emerald green eyes flashed and his high cheekbones and gentle, tall, almost feminine frame was entirely in shadows.

There was a pause behind the door before it opened. A handsome man stood tall and calm in front of it. His hair was a light, ashen blond and his eyes were a deep, slated grey. Underneath his eyes were dark shadows and defeat. Baron.

He looked to be in a stupor. "Baron." Serpine said. "Venegous!" Serpine repeated louder, wanting to shake him. "Whatever your grieving over—" Serpine began but suddenly Baron had a fierce, passionate look in his dark eyes that made Serpine lean back slightly.

"_Whatever_ I'm grieving over? _Whatever? _Mevolent is dead, Nefarian, and we have no leader—"

Serpine wanted to hit him hard. But Baron might hit him back, and Serpine wasn't a fan of pain. "But we still have our Gods, Baron! Even if our master is dead, our Greater Masters are not!" That seemed to slap some sense into Baron and this time Baron was the one to lean back. Serpine took a step forward, into Baron's personal room. "We still can bring him back, even if we don't have him! The Sanctuary has been weakened, too, Baron. We are not the only ones at a lose. They've lost many men, if we can—"

"And who will lead us?" Baron asked coldly, "You?"

Serpine paused and felt something uncomfortable settle in his stomach. He'd never even given thought to be fully and truly in control of their forces before. It wasn't something that appealed to him. "Or you." He suggested.

"I…" Baron leaned forward, closer to Serpine now. Serpine wanted to take a step back, but that would only lead him further into—with a gulp he realized—was Baron's room. "Could lead _you?"_

Serpine swallowed a bit. He was not… disinclined… to the images that the purr in Baron's voice was leading him to but… Serpine lifted his head with a cockiness that he didn't feel. "There won't be much of a need for leading if we can take everything tonight…" He began, and startled when Baron smiled.

"Oh? Tonight matters to you that much?" He walked forward. "I've always hated that about you, Nefarian. You're so hopeful. Such an idealist. Passionate. Cruel." We each word, he took a step closer to Serpine. Nefarian wondered if this was all just another trick of Baron's, because they were standing awfully close to the couch, in a way that wouldn't be too unfortunate if they fell back on it.

Serpine lifted his head haughtily and laughed. "The Dark Gods do not wait—"

"They've waited for a long enough time," Baron said blatantly. "That's what Mevolent and I have always understood. Not you, though…"

"If you believe that the Dark Gods don't wait, then perhaps you'll be inclined to believe that War doesn't wait, if we're going to win—"

"I'm not feeling up for it," Baron muttered, and suddenly his hands were on either side of Serpine's narrow waist, and Serpine felt his mouth grow dry. "I think," Baron, purred, "it's time for me to teach you…" He leaned forward and his rough, unshaven chin grazed Serpine's neck, until his lips went down to tease the Serpine's collarbone. Serpine's breath hitched, and Baron laughed low in his chest. "…Some patience…" Baron murmured at last.

Serpine, unable to resist, wanting him quick so he could have both things, the Sanctuary's destruction… and… and… Baron… Serpine moved into Baron and clutched his back encouragingly. Baron laughed again and Serpine growled in frustration. He could _tell _that Baron wanted him as much as Serpine wanted him, but why wasn't he giving him what they both wanted?

"Screw patience…" Serpine said hotly, turning Baron around so that when they fell, he would be on top, but Baron, laughing, obviously feeling better despite Mevolent's defeat, twisted Serpine so that he was… humiliation of all humiliations! Not only on the bottom, but facedown, too. True, he'd never made love to a man before, but surely it couldn't be too different! "No," Serpine said, his face flushed and his body squirming.

"Patience," Baron muttered, and taught Serpine—the painful way—how to be patient.

Years later, as still no one explained the mysterious screams heard from Baron's room that, scholars and observers of the war never did find out why Serpine and Baron never attacked that night.

Well… they were a bit busy.

Serpine woke up the next morning and threw a hissy fit when he realized that it was morning, the time had passed, until Baron pinned him down again and… er… distracted him away from the war.

**Tehe. I 3 LOVE Nefarian Serpine. Believe me, you'll see him in a few chapters into the future. **


	2. Valkyrie Cain x Ghastly Bespoke

**This is placed after Death Bringer, and is merely a one-shot I hope you'll enjoy. Don't read if you don't like a Valkyrie x Ghastly pairing, it's personally not my favorite, but I thought it'd be nice to write something softer. If you're curious about this pairing, read on… Do know that this will be a lot less… sensual than my last one-piece.**

Valkyrie's hand blurred and slammed hard against the red bag; her fist sunk and the heavy, tough bag swung from the impact. Just as fast as it moved up, it fell back down, and she stepped smoothly, almost bored, to the side to avoid it. Her eyes soaked in the whole of the gym.

It was the gym of Dublin; there was a pool on the second story, workout equipment on the first, and a track that ran around it. It suited Valkyrie well enough for today, because it was the day she had off; so it was this or baby-sitting. Red-faced, beer bellied men sighed heavily in envy as she landed yet another hit on the punching bag. Other men with thick, bulging, gross amounts of muscles leered at her and flexed their muscles whenever she looked at them. Valkyrie hadn't brought a bathing suit, and finally she sat down on the bench, next to her bag.

Her cellphone buzzed. _HEY. _The text message read. She blinked in surprise; it was from Ghastly Bespoke.

_HI. WHAT'S GOING ON? _She wrote back, and bit back a smile. If it were an emergency, she'd be called in to help. That was a far cry better than this.

_I'M BORED. I ACCIDENTALLY BROKE A BONE; AND THEY WON'T LET ME SEW OR WRITE ANYTHING. BEST DAY I'VE HAD IN A LONG TIME... _Valkyrie imagined Ghastly texting her with the cell phone held in his massive hands and laughed. He was probably drinking tea, too.

_BORED AND INJURED? POOR THING! WANNA COME TO THE GYM WITH ME? THAT'S SOMETHING TO DO._ Suddenly desiring his company, she texted him back.

_NO THANK YOU. I'M VERY MUCH ENJOYING NOT DOING ANYTHING._

Valkyrie grinned mischievously, and her thumbs worked tirelessly across the screen. _ARE YOU SURE? I DIDN'T WANT TO MENTION IT; BUT I THINK I NOTICED YOUR ARMS STARTING TO SAG…_

Valkyrie only had to wait a moment to get his response. _…. ON SECOND THOUGHT; MAYBE YOU HAVE THE RIGHT IDEA._

She smiled successfully and gave him the instructions to the gym. Once again rejuvenated, she leapt up and—ignoring the obnoxious people around her—started to hit the bag with just a little bit of a smile on her face.

When Ghastly arrived, Valkyrie's face had a bit of blush in it, and her hair was up, swishing side to side and she jumped around lightly on her toes. She saw Ghastly come in from the side of her eye and her lips curled further upwards. The difference between Ghastly and the other men in the gym was obvious. Ghastly moved like a dancer, a skilled fighter, and his scars made him look the part. His eyes found her immediately, and he headed towards her right away. Even the men with bulging muscles were fast to move out of his way. Valkyrie suppressed a chuckle.

"Hey there, Ghastly." She said. She used the excuse of friendly concern to let her eyes travel up and down, and with some luxury, did it once more. "I have to ask, because I can't figure it out myself. What did you break?"

"I wouldn't tell you," he said with a pout on his scarred face. "It's nothing important, I can still workout, anyway." He stretched his arms casually, but Valkyrie wasn't ready to let it go quite yet.

"Your fingers? Wrist? Ribs?" She questioned, her arms crossed. "Don't make me waste my breath. Tell me."

"Valkyrie…" Ghastly sighed. "Don't worry about it. It's not really a break so much… and Erskine just wanted to get me out of the office today, because I haven't been getting out enough, apparently."

Valkyrie took a step closer to Ghastly mischievously. She took his big hands in hers, and pulled him close to her, examining his fingers carefully. He stiffened for a moment, and then sighed, though she could see him start to smile. She ran her hands up his arms—and yes, it'd been a lie that his arms were getting soft—and across his collarbone. She ran her fingertips across his body in the middle of the gym, digging them into him slightly as she examined him as a whole. Her hands tickled down his abs, and his breath hitched. "Tell. Me."

"Valkyrie… He murmured for a moment, then he startled, suddenly panicked. "Uh… No!"

She took a step, a playful smile on her face, dancing on a thin line between seduction and innocence. "I'm just teasing." She breathed out to him and he looked at her like he wanted her, but something was holding him back.

_Bad boys will always disappoint you; whereas good guys tend to surprise you._ The advice Tanith had given her ran through her head, and twisted her heart around. Ghastly was a good guy, and he deserved better than to hurt over someone who wasn't—couldn't come back.

"Ghastly." She said. Her hands stopped, waiting for him to guide her. Ghastly's hand went to the small of her back, and he led her towards his chest. The two of them stopped, and stared at each other's eyes. Her dark eyes soaking in his brown eyes. Each as heated as each other, and using that heat to fuel the fire more.

The two of them moving perfectly together backed slowly into a storage room. There were mats in there, and the door had a lock. Perfect.

"Valkyrie… I…" Ghastly stopped, and looked ashamed and embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I can't do this now."

"Why?" She asked simply. She wasn't offended, she knew Ghastly too well to think that he was turning her down because she was lacking something.

"The bone I broke… the reason Erskine let me have the day off—he laughed so hard… um…" He looked at her apologetically.

She stared at him for a moment. Looked down. Looked back up. Looked down again. She took a deep breath, considering it and knew that there was only one thing she_ could_ do. Breath left her mouth and suddenly she roaring with laughter, and holding her stomach to keep it all together.

"You… seriously… broke your…?" She wheezed out and he looked embarrassed at first, but her laughter proved infectious and soon he was laughing hard along with her. The only thing he could manage was a nod.

She took a deep breath, and wiped a tear from her eye. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He put his forehead next to hers and she looked softly into his eyes. "Next time, then?"

"I love you," he murmured, "next time can't come soon enough."

**I hope you guys understood what bone it was that Ghastly broke. XD I just wanted it to end interestingly.**


	3. Dusk x Billy Ray

**Hi all! Thanks for tolerating my period of not posting, I did have writer's block, but I'm getting over it, because fan fictions are fun! I enjoyed writing this; I hope you enjoy reading it. BTW, this is a Sanguine/Dusk pairing, so prepare. **

Eliza Scorn was not a fun woman to work for. She didn't negotiate terms, she was a maniac worshipper, and she expected any right-minded man to fall to his knees in wonder when she entered the room. Of course, Billy-Ray had a firmer sense of dignity than that, and he had expensive taste. Factor in the fact that Sanguine was a professional at what he did, it was his mindset that he should get a reasonable pay. It was reasonable to ask for a hundred thousand instead of two thousand. Any assassin who knew anything wouldn't have settled for a cent less than that.

The vampire Dusk was not a professional, but somehow, through some totally unreliable source, Eliza had found him anyway. Dusk had had enough of working as a missionary for hire, and decided to go into the assassination business. The thought of such competition didn't send Billy-Ray into fits of glee. Dusk wasn't to be trusted. No amount of warning from Sanguine would do Eliza any good.

That was why he _wasn't_ getting paid a hundred thousand dollars for a small time assassination job; he was getting paid a thousand. The worst part was that he knew he couldn't turn the job down because of the complete lack of money he had. Eliza was a constant employer, and if he didn't take this job, she might encourage a boycott against him. He was going to bash Dusk's head in as soon as he was disposable; Billy-Ray swore he would.

"Can we go now?" Dusk was annoyed. Sanguine felt his ire twist around in his stomach and he rolled his eyes to the stars. The night circled the two assassins and not a spot of city light crossed their paths. Dusk, being a vampire, and Billy-Ray, being eyeless, didn't need the light.

"There's a bit more to this assassination business than jumping down and ripping someone's throat out for money, moron."

Coolly, Dusk ignored the insult and flicked a smirk at Sanguine. "You mean not getting caught? Looking cool? Don't get me wrong; I'm in this for _two_ things. Money is probably the most important and the second one… no. I won't tell you yet."

Sanguine was accustomed to mystery in his line of work, and he let the words slide by him with hardly a thought. "Enough damn mystery, Dusk. Time to get serious. We're going to stroll over there and pull the fire alarm so people vacate. Then we're going to slaughter him; nice and public, like Ms. Scorn wanted."

He saw Dusk about to object, and then he considered it a few seconds longer, ideas running through his head. The smile he gave Sanguine was calmly wicked and sly. Sanguine remembered the time before Dusk had his scar and thought with a small shiver that it suited him very well.

"Your breath's already hitching?" Dusk teased, and Sanguine bristled. Was Dusk mocking what he assumed was Sanguine's lack of experience? Well, when the numbers added up, they'd both killed about the same amount of people in the spans of their life.

Dusk's mind was in a totally different place than killing people.

"Damn it, focus on the job." He scolded Dusk. "Don't you know how to be a professional? I have women to provide for, you know."

A sour look crossed Dusk's face and Sanguine almost thought it was a pout. "Oh, so women are all that matter to you? Not men?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He said in aspiration, and Dusk leapt forward suddenly, catching Sanguine by the hand and pulling him forward to the office building where the murder would take place. Dusk didn't let go of Sanguine's arm as he struggled to keep up with the strides Dusk's long legs were taking.

"You want to get to work? _Let's get to work." _There was something ominous in Dusk's tone, so Sanguine kept his mouth shut. Besides, "work" was the middle ground between the two of them, and would further lead him to more money.

Now that there was a specific goal in mind, Dusk was being more cautious, keeping to the sides of the building and turning his face away whenever people passed. Sanguine did the same, sometimes pausing inside of doorways to avoid them completely. Together they made it to the final office, B-18 where the target awaited. Sanguine popped his head in and spotted the paunchy, middle-aged victim in all of his pathetic glory, thinking that he'd gotten something over on Eliza Scorn. He sighed and moved back out. Despite the thrill of murder only a psycho could get, this murder was about as dull as they came. He motioned for Dusk to start looking for the fire alarm, and Dusk's eyes lingered on him, soaking in Sanguine's disinterest.

The two of them broke apart and Dusk let out a sigh as he pulled the fire alarm. Suddenly, his plans for the day were threatened. This might not be any fun if Sanguine wasn't invested enough and interested. He stalked back to where people flooded from the offices, standing on either side of the door and waiting for that paunchy, middle-aged target to wander out with the rest of the sheep. Dusk and Sanguine didn't move along with the rest of them and when a mortal's eyes stayed on them a bit too long, Dusk let out a snarl to tell them to move along, which they did quickly.

Finally, Romulus Craft stepped out in front of them. Sanguine moved first, assertively knocking—in fact, almost tackling the man—to one side. Romulus opened his mouth in protest then thought better of it in his effort to quickly leave the building. Dusk lifted the man up from under his arms and began to move, helping the man to his feet.

"Thank you, but I have to go—" Dusk cut Romulus off with a dark look his way, and the light-hearted leading turned into dragging, with Dusk clasping a cloth firmly over the man's mouth. Smirking with ease, Sanguine lingered behind as the vampire dragged. If he wasn't getting much money for the assassination, at least it was an easy one. Still boring.

They dragged Romulus into a spare room, quiet with spare computers and a good escape route to the roof. Dusk grinned with cold eyes as he wrestled Romulus easily to the ground, and Sanguine glanced at the clock. Dusk took out a knife from his back pocket, not letting Craft get an inch out of reach. Craft squealed as Dusk… Sanguine glanced away, bored even as the sound of the blood dripping reached his ears.

"Still bored?" Dusk said, there was an edge of a taunt in his words and Sanguine's eyes narrowed. There was no point in being civil after the deed was done.

"I suppose I am. I'll feel better once I get home to see my TV programs, though, so what do you say we mutilate the body a little bit then head out?"

"I think there's still a little bit of fun to be had here," Dusk smirked at Sanguine and held up a bloody hand, and his eyes fluttered close with lust as he licked the blood from his hand.

"Um, ew?" Sanguine said and rolled his eyes. Vampires were so overdramatic, even someone like Dusk.

"That doesn't turn you on?" Dusk asked with his head tilted.

"Turn me on? Is that what this is about, turning me on?"

"No." Dusk said assuredly, and leaned away from Romulus's empty corpse, whose eyes were beginning to gather fog. He stood up and straightened, coming to his full height above Sanguine. "It's about getting into your pants."

"Have you gone insane? I don't mean the normal insane for us—I mean actually loopy. Have you gone loopy? I'm straight, Dusk. Always have been always will be."

"I think you'll find that it can change." Dusk purred and leaned towards Sanguine as Sanguine leaned away. His face was a picture of professional coldness.

"Yeah, I don't think there's much—" He began, and then Dusk slammed into him, crushing him against the wall. Sanguine's brown leather coat was smeared with blood and he pushed Dusk away forcefully, not letting Dusk's tongue in. He breathed out, trying to calm down enough to rational Dusk, only then realizing that he'd been panting. His hand went to his bloodied jacket and his eyes hardened.

"You got blood on my jacket." He growled to Dusk, and Dusk leaned into him, his hand running down Sanguine's well-defined chest. "I don't mind you, Dusk, but the jacket? The jacket makes this personal." Sanguine's fist came out of nowhere towards Dusk's scared face, blurring in an arch.

Dusk lifted a hand and stopped it gracefully, not lifting his eyes away from Sanguine like the predator he was. Sanguine's face went pale as he realized for the first time the very dangerous situation he was in. Sanguine's back hit the wall, and despite his best efforts his breath hitched as Dusk's tongue explored his mouth.

_Stop, _he wanted to beg, but he restrained himself to conserve his pride. _ I'll be damned if I cry out like a woman,_ he thought fiercely, and his muscles bulged as he pushed Dusk's chest away. Dusk's legs barely strained, but then he sighed impatiently, and moved his mouth away.

"Try to keep me away again and I won't be gentle." He sighed, the words a threat but his tone merely affectionate. "We can both have fun that way…" His mouth went close to Sanguine and so he spoke quickly in the time he had.

"I'll never let you get away with this," he swore. "I have contacts, and you'd better remember that I'm a damn assassin as well—"

"I like the way you protest." Dusk breathed. "Only makes this more exciting."

"And the fact that we're still at a crime scene? That we did?" Billy-Ray challenged.

Dusk merely purred, his deep voice sensual in Billy-Ray ear. His licked along Billy-Ray's ear, catching silky blond hair in his tongue and he felt his beat skip. "I told you. That only makes it more exciting. So, let me show you the other reason why I decided to become an assassin…"

Dusk and Sanguine fell against the floor, and Sanguine couldn't help it. He cried out.


	4. Serpine x Harmony

Nefarian Serpine rubbed his eyes, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes, his pale skin smooth and he was cloth less, but he'd adapted to the nudity. He had to adapt, if nothing else than for his dignity, he couldn't be seen blushing and trying to cover up like a young virgin every time his pretty little servant/prison guard entered the room. Besides, once he'd gotten over his own shame, gotten used to it, he started to notice how uncomfortable and red in the face it made Harmony, and that made it fun. Soon, he stopped using even the little towel he was provided, and watched her while she worked around his cell, her legs tense and her eyes down. She was so pretty. She was so cute.

He swept his long, dirty hair away from his face and warily got to his feet. Sometimes the hunger cramps got so bad, standing tempted him to faint. The last time he'd eaten was only yesterday, so he'd survive. It made his head swirl, but maybe if he could sleep with Harmony again, she'd bring him a bit of her own food. That was the advantage of having her, she was a compassionate, gentle girl, someone too good for him, but she'd love him anyway. She was his meal ticket, if he gave her a good enough time. It was nauseatingly like prostitution, except she was pretty and he was already deprived. It still hurt to have to use his body as a sexual weapon, even though he was ruthless enough to want to survive either way.

She was so pretty, curvy and muscular, with a beautiful face. The only imperfection on her face was a long, thin white scar that ran from her hairline down to her chin, her punishment for disobeying Mevolent. That'd been when Serpine was still with Mevolent, still a loyal dog basking at Mevolent's feet. It'd been pretty fun, seeing all those mortals wither away, seeing their religion spread like cancer throughout the world. Mortals cried out in fear when he passed by, mages cried out in joy. Such fun.

And Harmony? Before she turned traitor to Mevolent, sympathizer to mortals? He hadn't even known her, had seen her only once or twice in a bakery that he liked to favorite. He didn't know why he tried to help her when he did. He could have left her to be raped and tortured, but something had stopped him.

It'd probably started when he began to notice her talking.

_Serpine sat in a café inside Mevolent's city, taking a break from the torture and breaking of prisoners, and curled his hands around his cider. The café specialized in apple cider, and made them so rich and fine that Serpine went out of his way when he was in a bad mood just sit there and drink and not feel pressure. Everything in the café, as per normal, was perfectly fitted for the finest royalty and mortals never left the kitchens, like it should always have been. A young mage (_Harmony, though he couldn't have cared to learn her name then) _worked her way through orders and carried drinks and pastries with a bright smile on her face. Idiot. How could she be happy when she'd accomplished nothing but delivery a fine pastry in a small restaurant all her life?_

_ "Excuse me, sir. Would you like a cake to celebrate Mevolent's Day tomorrow? I'm sorry to interrupt your meal, but I was requested to ask you." She spoke suddenly behind him, and he tensed immediately, but didn't jump an inch more than necessary._

_ He eyed her. He wondered if she knew who he was. "I would."_

_ "Much appreciated Sir. Thank you for your business." She waited expectantly for him to stand and follow her and he did so with a sigh. It would be considered sacrilegious for him to forget to buy a cake on Mevolent's Day, never mind who he was. Yet it still managed to surprise him each year._

_ "Are you excited for Mevolent's Day?" She asked cheerfully._

_ The easiest response: I don't want to talk to you. The most normal response: Absolutely! Can't wait! Serpine didn't want to do it the easy or normal way._

_ "Are you?" Serpine asked._

_ She looked back for a moment, seeming to fumble for the first time in all that he'd seen her waitressing. It was off the script, and it provoked a quicker, more honest answer._

_ "I have a final coming up in school the day after that that I won't be able to study for, so, no." He didn't say anything, didn't try to continue their conversation or look away to end it. It was a trick he'd developed as a spy, often people will continue talking if only to fill in the gap in the space between words. "I suppose I will be excited, though. I happen to enjoy the fireworks a lot, although my family hasn't been going to them as often as we used to."_

_ "It takes a year to perfect those fireworks. The mortals who test and develop new kinds of fireworks die more often than not from explosions, or become terribly scarred. They're shown to the City once a year, for two hours of entertainment that costs on average twenty mortals lives."_

_ "I suppose you'd have to care about those people to know of it." She frowned. _

_ "Not necessarily."_

_ "And yet you can state it off the top of your head."_

_ "I can state a lot of things off the top my head."_

_ "Why did you tell me that, Sir?"_

_ She was becoming agitated, didn't appreciate having a good memory stained with blood. Deal with it, he thought._

_ "I think it's a waste of mortal lives, to be honest." He said and she looked at him surprised, but not unpleasantly so. He smiled and continued. "Those mortal lives could've been spent digging up minerals, mining or farming, but instead we wasted them for good, clean, entertainment. I'm okay with mortals dying humiliated and broken, I often seek it out myself, but that's all dirty, black entertainment. Trying to make a mortals death seem clean just isn't as much fun to me."_

_ "Indeed, Sir." Harmony spoke in monotone, her eyes blank and her fists clenched. Aha, Serpine thought, here's a mortal sympathizer._

_ "That was a joke." He said suddenly. "Between you and me, I don't want to see _anyone_ die." He lied, turning his head away to hide faked tears. _

_ "I… I'm not quite sure if I believe you. Sir." She'd grown too conscious of his flip-flopping opinion. She stopped in front of huge cooler, wider and expensive silver. He stared at her, the smooth heart-shaped face, blond hair, and that body… and he thought… _Why not? Am I not Nefarian Serpine, General of Mevolent?

_ "Don't get smart with me." His hand rested on her shoulder and she stiffened, and he breathed near her ear, but didn't hold on too tightly. He smiled, and his soft chuckle echoed in the empty hallway. Her shoulders were stiff, and he stepped between her and the escape, and put his hands on either side of her waist, his lips nearly touching her forehead. She stared blankly at his chest, focusing on his suit, the wall behind him, everything except for his very, very intense eyes. Her breath hitched, with fear or excitement, he couldn't tell._

_ "What's your name, waitress?"_

_ She wetted her lips. "Ha… Harmony is my name. Sir." _

_ "You're also a student, Harmony?"_

_ "Yes, sir. That's right, sir."_

_ "What are you doing on Mevolent's Day, Harmony, besides not studying?"  
"Well… I was planning on going to the parade, of course, and to see the fireworks. Maybe. I don't know anymore." Her eyes lowered, and then snapped up self-consciously. Cute._

_ He thought about it. Where would a girl like her like to go on her day off? What would show him in the best light? "Well," He backed off and let her have room to breath. "You have something to do now."_

_ "Sir?"_

_ He played with a string of her blond hair. "I like you, Harmony, you're perspective is unique and… I think you're my type: beautiful, unconventional, empathetic…"_

_ "I…I… I can't." She stuttered, but her will was breaking._

_ "Yes you can. And I'm not asking you if you can, _you will. _Come with me on a date, Harmony. I'll make it worth your time, have you home on time, I promise I'll be a proper gentleman if you want me to be. You're bored… Tired of the same old witless men. I'll show you what real fun looks like." _

_ Harmony stared up at Serpine, and she smiled._

_ "Just be sure not to bore me. …Sir."_


	5. Saracen Rue x Dexter Vex

**My first Deadmen yaoi fic. This is Saracen Rue (introduced in MS)/Dexter Vex, two utterly badass hilarious, handsome men that trust each other completely. Okay people? Don't judge. This is totally shippable.**

The sunset was a beacon of red light over the French ocean, like the sun had spread a basket of roses over the cool water and the violet night sky followed it down like a passionate lover.

"Kill the heathens!" Hollowed a half-naked, filthy, inbred old man from where he stood boldly on top of a charming French farmhouse. The breeze fluttered nobly through his clothes, which might have looked ok, except he was only wearing a loincloth and the angle Dexter Vex was at… it wasn't pretty.

"Dad," Said the crazy old man's embarrassed son, Hopeless. Dexter grinned at him, they'd been good friends ever since the start of the war. Dexter had been Hopeless's best man at his wedding. "I keep trying to tell you, we don't fight on Mevolent's side. This is my friend," he said slowly, "Dexter."

"Dexter?" The crazy old man scowled. "You kid. He's not a dog. Dexter's the name of a dog." Hopeless face palmed, and Erskine Ravel chortled, while Dexter smoldered. Behind him, the last men of their small group, Saracen, chuckled to himself.

"Are you sure we need the help of this crazy old bat?" Dexter said, none too quietly to Ravel, frowning crossly. Ravel shrugged.

"He's got the information about where the Baron is, so I'd say yes."

Hopeless ventured back down to where the three of them stood at the bottom of the hill, looking distinctly apologetic. Dexter had seen Hopeless take the heads of his enemies, scar men, and make sacrifices, but he'd never looked as ashamed as he did standing before his father. Dexter sighed, and clasped Hopeless's arm.

"It's no big deal, Hopeless. Your father's good for something right? He's the excellent spy…"

"…Because half the time he doesn't even remember which side he's fighting for." He finished. "At least, not without me to remind him."

Ravel shrugged. "Hey, at least he's never wrong, right? How long did you say it'd take for you to get the information out of him? A night?"

"If I'm lucky. It'll take a few good solid whiskeys and a lot of reminiscing to get it done, but I can do it." Hopeless pointed in the direction of a serene, small little windmill on the edge of the Normandy cliff, and where two of them would inevitably be staying for the night. "That's it."

"Joys." Rue said bitterly, "Another night, sleeping on hay. I could be in the feather beds of rich young ladies right now, you know? Instead I'm here…"

"… Doing what has to be done." Chided Ravel. He rolled his eyes, Dexter grinned.

"Hey, we all wish we had some pretty young things right now. I, personally, am not used to going this long without women. I think I'm beginning to get starved. Deprived."

"Enough of that, you three." Hopeless scolded. "We have other priorities." He straightened, and fixed his color, trying to smooth out a wild grin. "We are responsible young men, after all."

"Meh." Said Ravel.

"Alright," Hopeless said, all business. "You, Ravel. You'll be spending the night in our extra bedroom at the house, which means you're the one in charge of going to town and buying us all the extra booze we will need for the night and the weeks to come." Ravel saluted sarcastically, and trudged off in the long walk to town. Hopeless pointed to Rue and Vex, who were studiously and innocently avoiding his eyes. "Er… you two useless blokes. Take the last of the booze and go to bed."

Dexter leaped up in excitement and clasped his hands together. "I like this assignment." They began the walk, over soft green spring fields to the windmill.

"I don't," Saracen grumbled. "Where's all the sex and women?"

"I'm just glad to sleep." Said an exhausted Vex, with never-ending cheer.

"I bet that bastard Erskine will pick up a few nice country lasses on his trip to village, bring them home to his nice cottage… We haven't had the chance in weeks."

"Nonsense, there's been plenty of chances to jump Hopeless. Hopeless is like a woman." Dexter joked.

"I wouldn't put the idea into my head, Vex. You look more like a woman than Hopeless does, at least in the face." Saracen teased, and Vex punched his shoulder, not lightly.

"Hand me the whiskey." Dexter demanded, and Saracen gracefully passed it over to him. It was high quality stuff, and a half-full bottle. That'd probably be enough to get them both wasted, and they didn't need to worry about not sharing, since Ravel was going to get more. It was burning and thick down his throat, and Saracen took it next, taking a long swig out of the top. The pulled open the doors. It was cozy enough, with warm air and plenty of the softest hay to make the most comfortable of the worst of beds. There didn't even seem to be that many rats (just kidding, there were tons).

"Sit down next to me, Dexter." Rue slurred drunkenly. "Come 'ere, puppy, come 'ere…"

Dexter snorted with laughter. "You… your hair's all… messed up, Saracen! What's up with that? You look like… like…" Dexter stumbled forward, and fell directly on top of Saracen, ignoring his feeble protests as he pawed laughing at his hair. Saracen swung Dexter around on his lap, making Dexter sit like a child on Saracen's knee. Dexter hummed with laughter, his tight chest making him lean into Saracen. Alcohol always made him giddy and stupid.

Saracen ran his fingers through Dexter's thick, soft blond hair; sighing comically and petting him like a puppy. Dexter made joking whimpering sounds, and then he looked up at Saracen, into those attractive, dark, mysterious, knowing, attentive blue eyes of his, and the smile faded off his face.

Their eyes locked, and it wasn't a joke anymore, but Dexter didn't move.

"Puppy?" Saracen slurred. "So cute. Want to play with me, puppy?"

"Mm," Dexter said, suddenly feeling a heat warming up his stomach that wasn't from the whiskey. "What'd you have in mind?" He hiccupped the last word, and they both laughed.

"I could do…" Rue said softly into Dexter's ear, "terrible things to you, and_ I know _you'd like them, and so would I."

Dexter leaned in and their mouths brushed, and he whispered. "How do you know, Saracen? How." But it wasn't a question that was answered that night, more of a challenge, and Saracen accepted by swinging Dexter around and laying him with his back on the straw, Dexter's hot eyes staring up at him. Saracen teasingly tore at his pants, and Dexter fumbled with Saracen's shirt.

When the sun rose the next morning, they were curled up, spooning in the windmill with the soft French sun rising over the Atlantic near them, and all that was a souvenir of that night was an empty bottle of whiskey, lying forgotten and smooth on the dusty floor.

Then Ravel opened the door.

**Dun dun Dum! What's Ravel's reaction to all of this? Do Saracen and Dexter stay together…? Well, you'll never know, because this is a oneshot! Hope you enjoyed.**

** PLEASE COMMENT!**


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